


Chance Meeting

by Elementhyde



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:29:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elementhyde/pseuds/Elementhyde
Summary: Arthur is sent to Saint Denis to look for work and runs into an old friend, they decide to get lunch.
Relationships: Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was produced for the RDR Secret Cupid on tumblr. There won't be a continuation. This was a gift for @artofadmin on tumblr

_ Saint Denis _ . 

Arthur adjusted himself in the saddle. Why Dutch wanted anything to do with this city was beyond him, especially after Blackwater. He slowed Ulysses to a lazy walk as he wound his way through the streets, keeping an eye out for employment opportunities in the city. 

He eventually found himself on the main drag, crowds of carriages and pedestrians filled the street. The chime of a trolley car filtered through the dun of activity, the noise grated in Arthur’s ears, another reason he hated the city. Making his way to the Bastille Saloon, he tied up Ulysses and gave the horse an apple, promising to be back soon. 

The saloon was surprisingly busy for how early it was and Arthur moved to the bar to order a drink. He placed a handful of coins on the table and motioned for the bartender to leave the bottle, turning his attention to the poker table, the men around the table talked raucously. 

“Seat taken?” He asked, pulling out one of the empty chairs. 

The man next to him sized him up, a predatory smile sliding across his face as he waved for Arthur to take a seat.

“Join us! Join us! Take a seat, stranger!”

Arthur tipped his hat and sat down, placing the bottle of whisky on the table. The men quietly returned to their conversations. Arthur poured himself a shot before reaching into his bag and pulling out a handful of cash. He held it out long enough for the other players to notice before looking up at the dealer.

“How much I got to put down to play?” He fumbled with the money in his hands.

“Five dollars.” Said the dealer, almost sympathetically. 

Arthur counted out the bills and pushed them across the table, the dealer traded it for chips before he picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them.

“Alright, gentlemen. Bets in.” He said and started to deal as the men bid. 

Arthur pulled his cards toward himself, sneaking a quick peek at his hand.

“So—” a voice broke the silence at the table, ”—you don’t look like you’re from around here, lad. What brings you to town?”

Arthur filled his glass again, looking up at the man, finding all eyes at the table were on him.

“I was sellin’ some cattle to one of the farms just east of town,” he shrugged.

The conversation shifted a bit as they began to talk more about the town, offering information about local spots that Arthur should see while he was here. They told him where to find the general store and then got caught up in local gossip. Arthur let them talk, hoping to catch any information that may lead to some quick cash in town.

The game continued for another couple of hours, the men chatting about their lives and the goings-on about town. Arthur polished off the bottle, collected his winnings and politely took his leave from the table. He was annoyed that the men had nothing of importance to say, that their lives were so boring and simple, and even more annoyed that Dutch had sent him  _ here _ , of all places.

He pushed through the doors onto the too-loud streets, unhitching Ulysses and giving him a pat. He stepped into the saddle and adjusted himself, looking around. The streets were busy as people went about their day and he decided to try his luck at one of the other saloons in town.

He gently dug his heels into Ulysses' flank, turning him around and heading toward the looming cathedral near the center of town, winding his way through the crowded streets. 

Arthur groaned to himself as a group of kids bolted across the street in front of him. His eyes followed them down a small alley. His gaze lingering. He had exhausted almost all other options and the saloon he was heading for was nothing more than a hole-in-the-wall. Arthur pulled Ulysses to the side and jumped down, sighing heavily as he followed the kids into the alley that gradually opened up into a small courtyard.

The courtyard was empty for the most part, on the far end two women sat, chatting idly. He caught sight of the kids as they moved further into the space. He followed them around the corner finding himself in a dead-end, the three kids turning as he walked through the gate.

“You followin’ us, yokel?” One of the kids hissed, turning toward Arthur and pulling a knife from his belt.

Arthur held up his hands defensively, “Caught me.” a devilish smile crept across his face. 

The boys looked between themselves, curious about the man, the kid lowered his knife as they came to a silent agreement.

“We ain’t giving back that lady’s coin purse. She don’t need it.”

\-- ☓ --

Albert sat at his workbench in the small and cramped apartment. The wind blew gently on the unseasonably cool morning. He sat back, rubbing his tired eyes and placing his camera casing back on the table. He blinked a few times and stretched his arms above his head, reaching for his tea on the desk, empty.

“Damn.” Albert muttered and pushed up slowly from his chair, leaning deeply into a stretch.

He crossed to the sink, grabbing the kettle from the potbelly stove in the center of the room. He filled it with fresh water and placed it back over the heat to warm before gathering some tea leaves from the cupboard and leaning against the counter. 

Albert closed his eyes, the sounds of the city in the morning a stark change from the quiet of nature he had been waking up to the last couple of months. The comforts of home were hard to deny, but he would miss seeing the stars in the sky and the gentle sounds of nature. 

The sounds of traffic and fragmented conversations blurred together as Albert waited for the water to heat. He pushed off the counter and lifted the lid to the kettle, dropping the tea leaves in and returning to his desk, content to let the tea steep. Picking up the camera casing he grabbed the small brush to continue cleaning the dust from the gears when a new voice carried through the window, one he had never expected to hear again.

“I ain’t here about that.” The voice drifted through the open window. 

Albert turned, slowly placing the camera back on the table.

_ It can’t be _ .

“Just lookin’ for some information about the town.” The distinct baritone continued and Albert stood, crossing to the window.

His eyes scanned the space below, looking for the familiar figure, moving between the faces of strangers. Across the courtyard, behind a low wall a group of street kids, staring defensively to a shadowed part of the alley.

“And why should we believe you?’ One of the boys growled, brandishing his knife toward the darkness.

“Listen kid, I just know. Best place to get the info I want is from the people most in the know.” Arthur stepped into the courtyard, his hands still raised defensively. “And, that’s you lot.”

The kid lowered his knife, eyeing Arthur warily. “What do you want to know?”

Albert couldn’t believe his eyes, his heart skipped a beat as Arthur’s form moved into the light. He watched, intrigued.

Arthur dropped his voice, taking another step forward he continued. “I’m just lookin’ for anything interesting going on around here.” He stopped, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “I can make it more than worth your while.” 

The kid glanced at his buddies, re-sheathing his knife, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? How can you make it worth our while. Huh, old man?”

Arthur growled with annoyance at the comment but he pulled some cash from his bag, waving it in front of the leader. The kid smiled, rolling back on his heels. “Now you’re talkin’.” 

He whistled, flagging over one of the boys. “Lem here can give you the tour of our fine town here.” He gave the kid a pat on the shoulder. “Won’tcha Lem?”

“A’course.” Lem replied smugly. 

Arthur looked between the boys and sighed, folding a small handful of cash over and handing to the leader. “Right. Lead the way.” He stepped aside, letting Lem pass through the alley behind him.

Albert pushed back from the window as the two disappeared down the alleyway. He grabbed his hat and coat and ran out the door. What was Arthur doing in Saint Denis? How had he gotten wrapped up with these kids?

He pushed open the small gate to the courtyard, heading toward the alley Arthur and the kid had disappeared into, he glanced around, but the other two boys had vanished. He continued through the alley and back onto the main road, looking desperately up and down the street for any sign of Arthur and the boy.

He worried his hands, choosing to head right toward the center of town, his gut telling him that Arthur may have bit off more than he could chew with these kids. Arthur was familiar with a perilous life, Albert was certain of that, but the dangers here were nothing quite like those on the frontier.

The street opened up into the main square, the cathedral towering over the other buildings in the middle of town. He walked slowly around the square, hoping to find any indication of where they might have gone. As he passed a small courtyard he heard a group of kids talking lowly among themselves

“Why we trailin’ some poor yokel? Lem’ll clean him out just fine.” One of the boys huffed, kicking a small can along the cobbled street.

“Because he’s snoopin’ around, and Mr. Bronte won’t like that.” The boy Albert recognized from earlier said.

“Then why’d we take his money? We coulda just told him to take a hike.” The first grumbled, kicking the can again.

The boys’ voices faded as they moved out of earshot from where Albert had stopped to listen. He peeked around the corner, catching the group as they rounded a corner on the far side. Albert glanced around before following them through the courtyard, hoping to keep up just enough to avoid their attention. 

The group wandered along the street, chatting among themselves. Albert followed a distance behind, hoping that the group would lead him close enough to Arthur that he could get him away from these kids. 

They rounded another corner and Albert picked up the pace, he couldn’t afford to lose them now. He turned the corner, seeing the boys just ahead, much closer now as they crossed the street, heading toward the industrial side of town. Albert tried to imagine what business they had near the trainyard, but nothing good came to mind and he jogged after them, getting closer to the boys as they pushed through a gate to an alley behind the livery.

The alley seemed empty besides the boys and Albert dared not follow them in, walking around the front of the building, hoping to catch them on the other side. He stopped, seeing Lem round the opposite corner of the livery, Arthur in tow, and he ducked inside. 

He had to think fast, why had he hidden in here, he didn’t even  _ own _ a horse, it seemed silly in the city. He heard them getting closer and he fumbled with his waistcoat, pulling it straight before wiping the sweat from his brow and adjusting his hat. He swallowed hard, counting to himself as he saw Lem pass in front of the door, he stepped out, and into someone solid.

“Oh, my apologies, I real--Mr. Morgan?” He tried his best to sound surprised, stumbling back as the hand caught him.

“Watch where you’r--Mr. Mason?” Arthur’s voice cracked slightly, a restrained smile spreading over his face.

Lem turned, his eyes moving between them, he took a nervous step back, stealing a glance back toward the way they had come.

“Surprise seeing you here!” Albert said as cheerfully as he could, his eyes moving to Lem. “Who, who's your friend?” He held out his hand to the kid and Arthur stepped between them, confirming Albert’s suspicions.

“Lem here was just showin’ me to the stables, weren’t ya?” His eyes burned into Lem’s and the kid took a step back.

“Oh yeah, here we are, mister.” Lem said shakily. “Best a luck to ya!” He gave them a nervous wave and skirted around the corner, swallowed into the mass of workers. 

Albert watched him go, seeing Arthur’s stance soften as the kid rounded the corner. 

“Sorry, ‘bout that.” Arthur turned back to him, a warm smile breaking across his face.

“Oh.” Albert felt a rush of heat wash over him. “No need to apologize, I supposed Saint Denis  _ is _ a big city. Easy enough to get lost.” He chuckled.

“Yeah.” Arthur sighed, looking around. “It’s quite a bit of civilization. Ain’t really used to it.” He rubbed the back of his neck shifting his weight.

“Well, if you need someone to show you around, I’d be more than happy to.” Albert couldn’t stop the words as he saw a bit of surprise cross Arthur’s face and he laughed nervously before adding. “You know, to pay you back for all you help out there.” He gestured vaguely to the north.

“You from here?” Arthur turned his attention back to Albert. “I would have thought some place like New York or Boston.” 

“Not originally, but I’ve been here long enough to know a good place to get a drink and a good meal.” Albert winked. 

Arthur chuckled and shook his head slightly, holding out a hand for Albert to lead the way.

“What brings you to town, Mr. Morgan?” Albert started back toward the center of town, pausing briefly to let Arthur catch up.

“I guess, I’m just looking for work.”

“Oh? Looking to finally settle down?” Albert couldn’t help the excitement that crept into his voice.

“Heh. Nothing like that, just some cash to tide me over while I’m in the area. Ain’t sure I could live some place so  _ civilized _ .” Arthur glanced toward the ground, lying to Albert was quickly becoming one of the harder things he had done.

As happy as he was to see Mr. Mason again, he didn’t need him wrapped up in his world. The man was too kind, and Arthur couldn’t imagine the guilt if anything was to happen to him. He looked up, seeing the sadness on Albert’s face.

“Not, not that this place ain’t great!” Arthur backpedaled. “Just, didn’t expect to see ya here is all. Ain’t no wildlife here for you to try and get yourself eaten.” A smile played at the corner of his mouth.

Albert chuckled lightly, a heat spreading across his face. “No, I guess not.” 

Albert led them through the city, stopping at a couple landmarks and Arthur humored him. He’d been through the town enough to know his way around, but listening to Albert talk excitedly about things was nice. Albert slowed as they came upon a small café and turned to Arthur.

“You hungry? This place has some of the best French pastry I’ve ever had.” He waved for Arthur to join him. “I happened upon it when I was applying for gallery space upstairs.”

“Oh? Your work is in this gallery?” 

Albert turned as Arthur walked toward the alley, following the signs for the gallery. He hurried after him, reaching for his shoulder.

“It's, it’s not open quite yet, I’m afraid. The exhibit won’t open for another couple weeks or so, but yes!” 

How could he tell Arthur that he had included that initial portrait of the man in his series.  _ The Dying West _ , the man who embodied everything Albert found endearing about the wilds of America. He had thought it safe to include, never thinking he would see Arthur again, but here he stood in front of him. 

It had to be a dream, Albert thought. The man had haunted his dreams for weeks, a passing fancy. It was safe to imagine him there, under the guise that he would never see the man again. But Arthur was here, had accepted his invite to a meal, and now was dangerously close to seeing himself included among the beauties of nature. 

“Well then. I’ll have to come see it, once it opens.” Arthur turned to face him, a smile flashing across his face. 

Albert felt himself melt looking up at Arthur’s smile. Did this man even know what his smile could do to a person? He froze as Arthur hooked an arm around his shoulder, giving him a quick pat.

“Now, you said something about French pastry?”

“Y-yes, it’s right over here.” Albert sputtered nervously, Arthur’s touch setting fire to his skin. He swallowed hard. “Their beignets are to die for.”

“Ben-yay?” Arthur’s voice cracked slightly. “What’s that?”

“You’re gonna love them! Sweet bread with honey and sugar!” Albert beamed. “And their coffee? Won’t find anything quite like this out there on the frontier, Mr. Morgan.” He pushed through the door and into the small cafe.

Arthur followed him into the café.

“This place seems real fancy,” he whistled.

“Nonsense,” Albert chided. “all kinds of people gather here, it’s one of the most popular cafes in the city.”

Arthur sighed and followed him to the counter. Albert flagged the waiter over, placing an order for some beignets and a coffee. The waiter turned to Arthur who politely asked for his coffee without whatever  _ lait  _ was, scrunching his nose at the sign on the wall. Albert felt a pang of guilt as he tried desperately to commit that face to memory.

“Dollar fifty,” the waiter said and Albert’s hand moved to his bag. 

“Thank ya.” Arthur said as the waiter poured them each a coffee, sliding a handful of coins across the counter.

“No, you can’t! I was going to get this one, I owe you so much.” Albert protested as Arthur slid his cup in front of him.

“Don’t think nothing of it. What is that they say about starvin’ artists?” Arthur took a sip from his cup.

“And you said you were looking for work, don’t think I’d forgotten!” Albert rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, let’s find a seat.” Arthur pushed off from the counter, finding them a table near the window.

Albert slid into the chair across from Arthur as the waiter appeared, setting the warm beignets down on the table between them. He looked excitedly toward Arthur.

“So what will you work on next? Hopefully something less likely to get you killed.” Arthur picked up one of the pastries. 

It felt airy and light in his hand, white sugar dusted the top and honey dripped from the side and he raised an eyebrow.

“Just try it, I swear it’s worth it.” Albert picked up one of the pastries, taking a big bite.

Arthur followed suit, the warm dough melted in his mouth, the sweetness from the honey and sugar dancing on his tongue.  _ Mmmm.  _ He took another bite, savoring the sweetness.

“Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about my next project yet. I’ve got enough to tide me over, plenty of ladies in this town want to have their picture taken.” His eyes lingered on Arthur expectantly. “What’d I tell you?”

Arthur popped the last bite in his mouth, fighting a sly smile. “Ain’t the worst thing I’ve eaten.” 

He picked up his coffee, inhaling it deeply, he didn’t know what they had put in his coffee, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying it. It had a familiar taste that reminded him of quiet nights out under the stars, before all this running. Things were simple, life was the best it’d been in as long as Arthur could remember. Things could be like that again, here, with him. He pushed the thought from his head.

Albert rolled his eyes. “What about you, Mr. Morgan, what’s next for you?” 

“Probably just more of the same.” Arthur scratched his chin. “Shame though, that I won’t have to come to your rescue anymore.” 

A smile tugged at Albert’s lips and he chuckled. “Guess it’s my time to save you then.”

“Oh yeah?” Arthur cocked his brow letting out a breathy chuckle that made heat rush to Albert’s ears. 

“Yeah,” he said, defensively. “Those kids are bad business around here! Always swindling people out of their money.” Albert looked down, heat rising in his cheeks. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

Arthur was taken aback, feeling the heat brush across his cheeks and he lowered his head.

“They were just some kids, no need to worry about me,” he mumbled.

“No, they just some kids looking to swindle some out-of-town stranger. You’re lucky I found you when I did” 

Arthur shook his head and looked up from under the brim of his hat at Albert. “Well then, I guess this makes us even. Thank you Mr. Mason, for savin’ me from them kids  _ and _ for treatin’ me to the best meal I’ve ever had.” 

He picked up another beignet, gesturing with it at Albert, he took a bite.

“The best.” He chewed. 

Arthur humored Albert, knowing the feeling of leaving a debt unpaid. He was a good man, and he didn’t deserve to feel indebted to someone like Arthur, so he would let him free, let him live his life.

They sat together, the conversation between them easy as they finished their meal. Arthur wondered if he had to leave, perhaps he could stay in town a few days, see what was around and catch up with his new friend. He worried Dutch would send someone to look if he hadn’t returned and quickly pushed the idea from his mind. 

Albert chatted excitedly about his gallery opening, how excited he was to share the wonders of nature around them with the folks in town and Arthur smiled. He would have to swing back through when it opened, see how they came out. Maybe he would ask Albert to show him how to take pictures on that little camera he had gotten his hands on.

The sun had started to sink in the afternoon sky when they finished their coffees and pastries. The sounds of the city a rude reminder that they weren’t alone as they pushed through the door and back out onto the street. It had been so easy, spending time with Albert, Arthur thought. So much easier than life had become with the gang and he wished that he could stay, but he knew where he was needed.

Albert wanted to ask Arthur to stay, he would help him find work, but he knew that Arthur would refuse. Always something pulling him back to wherever he lived, whatever life he had. Albert chest tightened, would he never see Arthur again? He didn’t want that, he had to say something, anything to make Arthur understand how he felt.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Mason, truly.” Arthur adjusted his hat low over his brow.

Albert froze. His breath hitched, and he smiled.

“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur reached out, giving Albert’s shoulder a pat, his hand lingering.

“I’ll see ya again, and thanks for the tour. Maybe Saint Denis ain’t so bad.” He let his hand fall and whistled for Ulysses.

“It grows on you.” Albert flashed a half smile, but his heart sank. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”

Arthur turned, running his hand down Ulysses as the horse came to a stop outside the cafe. He pulled himself up in the saddle, looking down at Albert, he tipped his hat, his eyes sad.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Arthur said, clicking gently, he started down the road.


End file.
